


Jet Set Geminis

by habenaria_radiata



Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor 2
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M, UST, an unreasonable amount of dick jokes, hotel room shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-05 18:06:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11583414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/habenaria_radiata/pseuds/habenaria_radiata
Summary: It's not as if he could claim to have been unaware of Yamato's workaholic nature; he just hadn't expected it to be such a problem while they went on an amazing international vacation. Fortunately, Hibiki discovers a deeply unorthodox solution that leaves Yamato with some terrifying ideas for a new JP's recruitment method.A few solutions, rather.Post Triangulum Arc





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I initially wrote this intending it to be a one-shot. Needless to say, the idea has grown a little, so I've changed the rating and the completed status to reflect its current nature. Consider it a small collection of connected snippets of Yamato and Hibiki's post-Triangulum Arc vacation.
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

 

  
  
    Upon returning to the hotel room, Hibiki's first course of action was to plop face first onto Yamato's bed with his legs hanging off the edge. "Ugh, I'm exhausted," he told the comforter, which was pressed flush against his mouth. But all that likely filtered back to Yamato was "Mphghgh", to which Yamato, predictably, elected not to respond.  
  
    He had no idea how Yamato wasn't lying face down right beside him, quite frankly. They'd been meandering around New York City for hours, hitting up every single 'must see' they could possibly cram into the same twenty-four hour time frame. The only possible way they could have been more touristy was if they'd gone up to a local and pronounced Houston Street wrong.  
  
    Hibiki turned his head when it got a little too stifling to breathe, and he peeked over to see Yamato by the door. He slid each of his feet out of his shoes and left them there like a civilized person. "You know Americans don't care, right?" Hibiki called.  
  
    Yamato peered back at him with a furrow etched between his brows. Again, he didn't respond, instead moving behind Hibiki and leaning over him. One of his pale hands grasped at Hibiki's ankle, and he held it still and tugged one of his bright blue sneakers off. As he did the same to the other one, Hibiki couldn't help but note that it would never cease to amaze him how disapproving Yamato could be without uttering a single syllable.  
  
    He rolled over onto his back as Yamato dropped to the edge of the bed, and he flashed him a dorky grin. "Thank you. Next time I promise I'll take them off like a gentleman."  
  
    Yamato snorted back at him, but Hibiki could see the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips. "You know," Yamato started, his voice misleadingly congenial, "most people don't take 'when in Rome' as a mandate." Smoothly, Yamato lifted his legs up onto the bed and got comfortable. "You could just consider it a polite suggestion to be ignored like the rest of us." With a slight flourish, he propped his laptop onto his thighs and pried it open.  
  
    Hibiki squinted at him immediately.  
  
    Before they'd ever left on their jet setting excursion, Yamato had promised that he wouldn't spend a single second of their vacation working. As it turned out, if he wasn't completely distracted by being outside doing something, he would open up all his weird JP's apps on auto-pilot the second Hibiki took his eyes off him.  
  
    Hibiki chose not to say anything right away. He was content to give Yamato the benefit of the doubt, settling in beside him until a familiar window popped up on his screen. With a jerk, Hibiki sat up and frowned sharply. "Yamato!"  
  
    He could see the stiffness set in Yamato's arm, but he made no move to put away his laptop. "What?"  
  
    "You said no work!"  
  
    At that, Yamato's lips pinched tightly. "I haven't done anything yet."  
  
    Indignant now, Hibiki thrust his chin over Yamato's shoulder and jabbed a finger at the screen. "Seriously? I'm not stupid. This- God, the UI is even black and yellow! ...You made this yourself, didn't you?"  
  
    The impossibly sour look that settled over Yamato's face would have amused him if he weren't busy being in a snit. With a put upon huff, Yamato dragged his fingertip along the track pad and slammed it down over the 'x', his pinky thrust out in a distinctly sarcastic manner.  
  
    Hibiki flopped back onto the mound of pillows and folded his arms. "Hey, if either of us has the right to be mad, it's me. The whole work thing was your idea. I'm just holding you to it, as per our agreement."  
  
    Yamato sniffed in irritation. "I'm aware. However, I've decided our agreement is no longer satisfactory, and you can stop upholding it now."  
  
    "What?!" Hibiki definitely hadn't expected that, but he was only disoriented for a moment. He leaned closer to Yamato with his nose wrinkled. "Fuck that! The integrity of a contract relies on the consent of both people! You can't just renege on it by yourself!"  
  
    A bark of laughter burst from Yamato, and he smirked at Hibiki in that way he had about him when he was starting to get smug. Truth be told, Hibiki found it extremely attractive when it was directed at anyone other than him. "I'd like to see you use that defense in divorce court," Yamato noted with a curl of his lips.  
  
    "Wh- Joke's on you," he retorted immediately. "We're not married!" Eugh, that was a stupid comeback. Hibiki shook his head and paused. "Don't make me mail your laptop back to Makoto."  
  
    That threat proved effective. Yamato glared at him, but he nevertheless snapped his laptop shut with a tiny huff. "...Very well. Then what, pray tell, am I allowed to do, O Arbiter of my free time?"  
  
    Hibiki let that dripping smarminess roll off his back, and he cocked his head at Yamato with a faint smile tugging at one corner of his lips. "Come on, didn't you bring anything else to do? I kinda figured you'd bring some entertainment, given the ban was your idea."  
  
    Yamato was quiet for a moment, then made a grudging noise. "...My laptop was too big to fit anything else in my suitcase."  
  
    He couldn't help but snort, and he glanced down at the machine still whirring softly in Yamato's lap. "I can believe it. I bet you could kill a horse with that thing."  
  
    Another unpleasant expression crossed Yamato's face, and he moved to slide it back onto the desk beside his bed. "Perhaps you could offer some suggestions, since you're the expert in frivolous wastes of time."  
  
    Hard to pretend that one didn't sting. Hibiki looked a little wounded and rubbed at his chest. "I think that was kinda harsh. I mean, don't you have a Kindle or anything? Those are small and you could read books or something."  
  
    Hibiki definitely didn't anticipate Yamato to snort with laughter, but that was what he did. "What would you have me read? A romance novel?" he asked snidely. Hibiki reared back from him.  
  
    "Hey. Whoa. Unnecessary aspersions aside, you know there's, like, a million other genres, right? Also, what's wrong with romance?" Yamato definitely just talked himself out of getting to borrow Hibiki's Kindle for damn sure.  
  
    Yamato simply folded his arms again, oblivious. He was still frowning, but slightly less harshly. "Mm...I suppose I could find a new programming book I haven't read."  
  
    "Wh- _Eugh_. No!" Jesus, Yamato was so impossible. Hibiki sighed loudly at him and dragged his fingers through his unruly hair. "Have you never owned a piece of fiction? Or read anything for fun and not to improve yourself as a person?" Well, at least in the most basic sense. Hibiki could open up Yamato's stupid laptop and find him about eight million articles on how reading fiction could help him develop a modicum of empathy, but honestly, it was probably a little too late for that. Which, really, wasn't Yamato's fault.  
  
    Hibiki sighed again and offered Yamato a crooked smile. Yamato was weird and abrasive, but Hibiki hadn't booked an overnight flight to the US with him not knowing that. His weirdness and abrasiveness charmed Hibiki as much as it exasperated him. Plus, as he'd reminded himself, it wasn't Yamato's fault that he was treated like a vessel for knowledge and competence and complete ignorance of fun from birth. "Alright, so that's a no on books. I think you forgot the original purpose of this vacation."  
  
    Yamato met his gaze with a more quizzical one. "Oh? What might that be?"  
  
    Hibiki gestured towards the room with both arms and shrugged. "To learn how to have fun like a normal person who doesn't have the entire weight of the world resting on his shoulders anymore?"  
  
    Once more, Yamato was effectively silenced. He stared into Hibiki's face for awhile, but after a few moments, he dipped his chin in a slow nod. "Point taken."  
  
    He didn't bother to hide his relief. Hibiki smiled brightly and sat up straighter, turning to face Yamato. "Let's do something completely mindless." He threw his arms open wide, indicating the TV and waggling his eyebrows. But Yamato only stared back at him blankly, his head tilting towards the expanse of space between Hibiki's skinny limbs as if he were hiding something Yamato couldn't see.  
  
    Awkwardly, Hibiki dropped one hand and motioned towards the television set with the other. "I was referring to the TV."  
  
    "Ah." Yamato looked at it with a strange mixture of apprehension and scorn, but nevertheless, he leaned back into the pillows. "...Alright."  
  
    Much better. Hibiki got up to grab the remote, and he crawled back into bed beside Yamato. "We're gonna watch something completely without artistic merit." He turned the TV on and settled in to surf the channels. He didn't have to get very far. Crudely drawn cartoon characters burst to life on the screen, and Hibiki grinned over to Yamato. "This seems like a good candidate."  
  
    A little too good a candidate, as it happened, because they watched less than two minutes when one of the characters farted so loudly Hibiki was sure the lamp rattled. Yamato turned to him with such a deeply sour expression that Hibiki changed the channel without even looking at him. "Er, maybe a little artistic merit," he conceded. "Like...half."  
  
    They cycled through about a dozen more channels before Hibiki stumbled upon a channel entirely dedicated to food, and his eyes lit up. "Oh! I think I know this show!" He fiddled with the buttons to find the channel information, and sure enough, the show title thrilled him. "Hell yeah! I've always wanted to see this."  
  
    Yamato made a non-committal noise and tightened his arms against his chest. "What is it?"      
  
    "Ooh, look, he's explaining the basket. Watch!" Damn, they had good timing. It was fresh off a commercial break, and the three chefs onscreen were diving into their baskets with varying degrees of horror.  
  
    Yamato's face grew more and more perplexed as the placid host explained that they'd be using the bizarre basket ingredients to make an actual meal. "...What?" he finally asked. "It's all food. I don't see-" He paused, then, and he squinted at the TV. "...What the hell is fenugreek?"  
  
    Beside him, Hibiki laughed raucously. "Beats me, let's find out! I bet one of them tastes it so they can figure out what the fuck to do with it."  
  
    "I don't...what are these people doing?" Yamato ignored the TV in favor of staring at Hibiki, and his face was pinched into such a look of befuddlement that Hibiki would almost hazard to say that it was adorable. He giggled behind his hand and pointed back to the screen.  
  
    "It's called Filleted. It's a competition, basically. They gather a bunch of chefs together, give them three baskets full of weird shit to cook with, and then tell them to make a meal while a bunch of celebrity chefs leer at them and constantly remind them they're being timed. Each round, one of the contestants gets kicked off and the other ones go on to the next round. They call it getting Filleted, which...in retrospect, sounds kind of scary and threatening? I feel like I could come up with a bunch of way better words off the top of my head," Hibiki mused, but he soon fell quiet as he noticed the expression of intrigue blossoming across Yamato's pale face.  
  
    "...Fascinating," he murmured. He turned from Hibiki to focus on the carnage unfolding before them, visibly much more interested than he had been before. "The ultimate competition to pit your skills against someone else. Tests how they perform under time constraints and pressure, as well as their creativity with unorthodox equipment. ...I like it," Yamato announced firmly, and he lifted his head to eye the TV like a hawk.  
  
    Hibiki almost laughed at him, but he smothered it hard and simply watched him in growing amusement. "Yeah? I'm glad it works for you."  
  
    Yamato didn't respond to him. He was clearly deep in thought, watching the chefs scramble around to grab ingredients from the communal pantry.  
  
    When he'd considered asking Yamato to veg out in front of the TV with him, the last thing he had expected was for Filleted to be the hit of the evening. It was a pleasant surprise to be sure. When the last round ended, Yamato shifted beside him, and Hibiki glanced over to see him looking faintly disappointed.  
  
    He hesitated, then tilted his head towards Hibiki. "...Is there more?" he asked.  
  
    Fortunately for them, there was: a whole marathon, in fact. By 1AM, they each had five dollar bills stacked, in the loosest sense of the word, atop their stomachs, and a smaller one between them. As the entrée round started up, Hibiki waved a bill at Yamato and slapped it on the bed. "I got Donna moving into the dessert round and making bread pudding."  
  
    Yamato chuckled and slid another bill on top of it. "So eager to lose? You're already lagging behind. And Donna is clearly not the bread pudding sort."  
  
    Hibiki frowned, but as he glanced down to their stacks, he admitted, grudgingly that his stack was looking a little thinner in comparison. He hummed and glanced at his empty palm. "My grandma always did tell me not to be a gambler." He dropped his arm to his belly and craned his neck to peer up at his companion. "Who do you think's going to get axed?"  
  
    "I haven't decided yet."  
  
    Hibiki curled his lip and stretched broadly. "Mmph, I hope it's that guy. He's such a dickhead. There's always one you can root against, you know?"  
  
    He felt Yamato shift beside him, and Hibiki glanced over at him to see Yamato staring. He blinked and cocked his head. "What? Is there something on my face?" Yamato was definitely looking at him strangely, but Hibiki could admit that the reason eluded him. "Seriously, did I say something weird?"  
  
    "What did you mean?"  
  
    "Er...about the dickhead?" He could feel the anxiety creeping up low in him; Yamato had that blank glass expression he made when he was thinking about something way beyond Hibiki's grasp. After a beat, Hibiki shrugged with a tiny frown and sat up, bills raining down into his lap. "I mean, they usually have one guy that they encourage to act like he's god's gift to cuisine so you hope he loses for being an asshole. Karma, you know?"  
  
    Yamato's face didn't shift even slightly. The longer Hibiki stared at Yamato staring back at him, the more sharply he could feel the ice settling in his stomach.  
  
    When it finally hit him, he bit his lip and only barely resisted the urge to slap himself in the face. Of course Yamato wouldn't understand the drive to see a competent dickhead fail. Hibiki had met him when his life's ambition was to create a world full of competent dickheads.  
  
    Feeling like the world's dumbest asshole, Hibiki leaned closer to him and shook his head. "I mean- You hope he loses to someone who's actually better, not you want him to lose just because he's a dickhead. Like, they're so arrogant it blinds them to their actual skill level, and someone nicer and better comes along and wins. That's all I meant."  
  
    Eugh, he hated watching the slow cock of Yamato's brow. And he remained silent, too, which only made Hibiki feel stupider. Damn, he really fucked that one up.  
  
    Yamato's gaze shifted from Hibiki's mouth back up to his eyes, and he frowned mildly. "But why want him to lose? What does it matter? If he does better, he does better."  
  
    "I know, but..." Hibiki pressed the heel of his palm against his forehead and pushed a little harder than necessary. Why had he even opened his stupid mouth? Then again, maybe he could use that unfortunate faux pas to his advantage. He could use Yamato's nature to make his point. "Okay, think about it like this. You would think of social mastery as a skill just as much as cooking, right?"  
  
    Yamato hesitated for a bit, but eventually he nodded. "I would."  
  
    It made Hibiki feel better. "Right, so, it's like that. When someone doesn't act like an asshole and happens to be good at something else, your instinct is to kind of root for the person who can do both. Er, generally."  
  
    He glanced over to see that it was a commercial break, and that they'd missed the round entirely. When he looked back, Yamato hadn't moved at all, his pale eyes still boring into him like he could peel back Hibiki's skin and see his insides with his gaze alone. He could admit, if only to himself, that that expression on him definitely gave Hibiki some kind of weird fear boner. Well, sort of. Fear half-chub?  
  
    While he was busy fretting, he missed Yamato shifting, and he moved to sit up as well with a soft scoff. "I see."  
  
    "Er, you do?" Hibiki blinked again and pushed his hair back.  
  
    Yamato nodded smoothly and offered him an extremely faint smirk. "It's alright if you think I'm a dickhead. I don't think I'd have room to take umbrage with your assessment."  
  
    "That's not-" Fuck. That's the exact opposite of what he'd wanted Yamato to take from that. "I don't think you're a dickhead," Hibiki asserted.  
  
    Yamato chuckled again, but he didn't respond. A heavy silence lapsed between them while the light of the TV flickered across their skin. Yamato thought Hibiki thought he was a shitty person.  
  
    For the first time since they'd left Tokyo, Hibiki felt like he was back in those god forsaken ruins. He could feel blood caked on his neck and on his brow, he could see the crazed look of pain on Yamato's face as he reached out to him across the broken road. "Perhaps it was my personality that drove you away," he'd said.  
  
    Hibiki's insides shriveled and turned to ash.  
  
    He was still lost in his head when he saw two of Yamato's fingers pinched around two five dollar bills, and he handed them to Hibiki with a charming twist of his lips. "Looks like you win."  
  
    The dickhead got Filleted. Of course he did.  
  
    Hibiki lay there for a moment longer. His breath felt thin and weirdly unsatisfying, and a mess of cash was spread across his thighs. Hibiki swatted them away and swung around to face Yamato entirely. "I didn't want you to lose," he blurted. "It wasn't like that."  
  
    Surprise schooled across Yamato's smooth face. Hibiki had no idea if Yamato had even gone to that like Hibiki so stupidly had, but now it was just _there_ and festering inside him like an ulcer. Hibiki swallowed before he pressed forward, and he threw his leg over Yamato's hips. If he hadn't actually been surprised before, Yamato absolutely was now, but Hibiki didn't give him a chance to protest. He dropped down into his lap and curled his arms tightly around Yamato's waist, his cheek flush to the man's neck.  
  
    He could feel the heat from Yamato's hands leeching into the small of his back where they hovered awkwardly above him without actually touching him. Eventually, though, they did settle against Hibiki's skin. He could feel the stutter of Yamato's pulse against his chest, and the blissful heat of his neck.  
  
    "It wasn't like that," he said again.  
  
    Yamato's grip on him grew a little less uncertain. "I know," he murmured. "Are you alright?"  
  
    "Just let me stay here for awhile," Hibiki asked, though a good chunk of that was muffled by Yamato's chest. He at least seemed to get the gist of it, because he snorted softly.  
  
    "Is this another one of those things that normal people do?"  
  
    Hibiki paused. "Will you be less weirded out if I say yes?"  
  
    "Noted," Yamato said.  
  
    He could hear the dessert round going on while he lay curled up against Yamato's torso, his thighs draped against Yamato's hips and his fingers clutching at the soft material of the man's oxford. He could not fucking believe that even on vacation, Yamato insisted on wearing a fucking oxford.  
  
    It was nice.  
  
    And he never wanted to move.  
  
    "Yamato?" he asked.  
  
    "Hm?"  
  
    "Will you tell me who wins? It's gonna bug me all night if you don't."


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

 

 

    A little after a week into their vacation, Hibiki plopped down onto the bed beside Yamato and stretched languorously. "So, where are we going next?" he asked, and he tilted his head towards the man and tossed him a dazzling smile.  
  
    As much of a blast as New York City was, two weeks was enough to start craving a change of scenery. They're already visited most of the famous tourist spots, and they still had a ton of other states to hit up before a whole new country was in order.  
  
    Yamato glanced away from his laptop only briefly. "You tell me."  
  
    "I get to pick?" Well, damn. Hibiki's brows shot up, and he inched a little closer to see Yamato opening a fresh tab and moving to type something into the bar. After their first little row, Yamato had been good about avoiding his fancy black-and-yellow JP's apps. So, rather than stare him down like a creeper on the watch for internet contraband, Hibiki lay back against his growing nest of pillows and tried to remember which states he even knew. "I guess I'm kind of spoiled for choice, huh? Um...I don't know. To tell you the truth, I can name, like, three states tops."  
  
    Yamato snorted in amusement, but since he made no move to respond, Hibiki continued after a bit. "What's that really big one? Not California, the other one."  
  
    "Alaska?"  
  
    Hibiki made a face at him. "What's that one? No, the big one! The...star one." Truthfully, it bugged him that he couldn't remember the name. He felt it right at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't just force it off with his will alone, and it was driving him a little bonkers. He should have known it. Why couldn't he think of it?  
  
    This time, Yamato quirked an eyebrow at him. "Texas?"  
  
    Hibiki lit up and jerked his head up towards Yamato. "Yes! That's the one. Texas."  
  
    Yamato leaned away from him, his pale eyes flickering down the length of Hibiki's face. "You realize Alaska is almost three times bigger than Texas, don't you?"  
  
    Whoa. Hibiki's eyes popped open wide. "What?!" He sat up and looked down to find that Yamato had opened a US map courtesy of Wikipedia. He squinted at it. "It doesn't even...are you sure?" Patiently, Yamato scrolled down to find the list by square foot, and sure enough, Alaska was the biggest state by far.  
  
    "What the fuck," Hibiki said. He wasn't entirely sure why he felt so betrayed by a country he'd never even been in until a week ago, but...  
  
    "But- everything is bigger in Texas," he protested.  
  
    Hibiki could see that charming twist of Yamato's mouth as the corner lifted up, and he indulged in a ridiculously attractive laugh that was enough to temporarily distract Hibiki from the sensation of his world being pulled out from beneath him. "Alaska begs to differ," Yamato said smoothly. Then he paused and offered Hibiki a genuinely baffled sort of frown. "Why do you want to go to Texas? I assumed California would be our next stop, but if that's what you'd prefer, I have no objections."  
  
    Hibiki hesitated a long moment. "Well, I was kind of wondering about the whole Wild West thing. It sounds kinda cool." The expression forming across Yamato's face gave Hibiki pause again, and he immediately scowled and threw himself back into the pillows with a soft 'flump'. "I bet now you're going to tell me they don't even ride horses or wear cowboy hats."  
  
    Yamato shook his head lightly and went back to focusing on his laptop. He was clearly not even going to dignify that outburst with a response. "California, then?"  
  
    "Yeah, I guess."  
  
    From so far down, it was difficult to tell what Yamato was doing on the computer. The screen went such a weird color that everything looked like unintelligible blobs given the angle. Hibiki left him to it and tilted away from him to stare at the wall and frowned softly to himself.  
  
    It was kind of embarrassing, but he was genuinely put out. But it was so trivial! What was his problem?  
  
    Evidently Yamato noticed too, because Hibiki could feel the man shift beside him, and he glanced up to see Yamato leaning over him. "Are you alright?" He sounded concerned, but also kind of confused. Hibiki didn't really blame him for that. He was in a strange mood now. Nevertheless, he flattened onto his back and flashed Yamato a bright smile.  
  
    "I'm fine. Really. Did you say something and I missed it?"  
  
    He watched Yamato's fair brows pull together lightly, but the rest of his face remained almost impassively smooth. "I asked if we'll be traveling to Los Angeles."  
  
    "Oh. Sure."  
  
    A soft frown tugged at the corners of Yamato's lips. "You're disappointed," he said. It wasn't a question. Hibiki blinked, and he rolled over onto his stomach. Eugh, it figured he was so obvious.  
  
    "Nah. I'm fine. It's just..." He motioned vaguely with his hand before he folded them beneath his chin, and he dropped his gaze towards the sleek wood headboard in front of him. "I guess I just had my hopes up. When I was little, my uncle came to live with us for awhile. He wasn't doing well, and my parents had to work a lot. So, my uncle agreed to watch me while they pulled their hours."  
  
    Man, he hadn't thought about that in a long time. Hibiki's lips pursed into a frown against his forearm, but he soon pulled away and sat up to look over at Yamato, who was watching him steadily.  
  
    "He really liked American westerns. Like...a lot. And we'd watch them together. I thought they were so cool." He couldn't help but grin even as the painful memories tugged at him, and he reached up to muss at his own hair. "I thought _he_ was so cool. He was my mom's smart little brother who actually wanted to hang out with me, and he taught me little bits of English he picked up from some of the movies."  
  
    His hand dropped into his lap, and he suddenly became hyper aware of the heat of his own skin. Ugh, he was just vomiting all this out when Yamato just wanted to buy some fucking plane tickets.  
  
    Hibiki winced at himself. "Er, anyway. That's all. I knew better. I knew that it wouldn't really be like some old spaghetti westerns. It was just some dumb fantasy I had. It's stupid." And just to make it extra sincere, Hibiki beamed for Yamato's benefit. "Los Angeles sounds great."  
  
    That made Yamato frown sharply. "I've never found anything you've ever said to be stupid."  
  
    Oh. Hibiki paused, his hands frozen awkwardly in the air. How did one even respond to that? Thankfully, he didn't have to, because Yamato soon dropped his head once more and motioned towards Hibiki. "What kind of room would you like?"  
  
    It was a welcome distraction, but also a bizarre one. Hibiki wrinkled his nose and cocked his head. "What do you mean?"  
  
    "The hotel I'm looking at has several types of rooms. They have a suite that's a fair bit larger than this one." That was actually pretty hard for Hibiki to picture. He fell quiet and admired their current room, which was easily the nicest he'd ever stayed in. He could remember staying in a hotel a few times when he'd been much younger, but nothing quite like this. He was sure he'd been inside entire apartments that were smaller than this freaking hotel room, and it didn't even have a kitchen.  
  
    Hibiki's musings were interrupted when Yamato sat back and frowned mildly. "Ah. Nevermind. It's a single king."  
  
    He stared. "A what?"  
  
    Yamato's eyes flickered over to him. "Single king. The rooms either come in that or double queen."  
  
    For a long moment, Hibiki fell silent. "I feel like you're going to rescind your previous opinion of me and how not-stupid I am if I tell you I don't know what that means." Yamato laughed at him softly, and it was a sound that Hibiki absolutely lived for. It was easy to look at Yamato and assume that his sense of humor died along with every trace of compassion or normalcy he might have had once before, but really, Yamato was pretty easy to amuse. Even when it didn't involve making fun of you. Hibiki really liked coaxing that sound out of him.  
  
    Hibiki found that he'd been staring a little too long when he cleared his throat and dragged his nails against his cheek. "Er, really, though. Single king? King sounds mega fancy, but wouldn't the beds be small?"  
  
    "Ah. No." Yamato shook his had and indicated the screen with two of his curled fingers. "King and queen are the sizes. Single and double refer to the number of beds. You're thinking of the mattresses sizes back home."  
  
    "What?!" What the hell. How did that makes sense? "How would arbitrary royal titles make sense for bed sizes?"  
  
    By now, Yamato looked a little perturbed, and his lips drew into a flat line. "You do know 'king' and 'queen' sizes also exist in Japan, no?"  
  
    Hibiki wrinkled his nose again. "No?" That should have been self-evident, quite frankly, but he was kind enough not to point that out even when Yamato really ought to know better. Then again, maybe Yamato was getting more accustomed to being a huge smart ass like Abel and Hibiki.  
  
    After a beat, Yamato huffed and just barely avoided rolling his eyes. "I suppose that's self-evident." Welp. So much for that. "At any rate, this room is a double queen. As in, two queen-sized beds. ...Have you really never bought yourself bedding?"  
  
    "I just..." Hibiki scowled to himself and folded his arms. "It just sounds like it'd be some fancy beds for kings. That would be much cooler. And why even have a hotel room with just one bed?"  
  
    Hibiki wished it wouldn't royally piss Yamato off if he snapped a cell phone picture of his face and sent it to Daichi and Abel, because he was making a particularly spectacular expression of long-suffering just then. Honestly, though, he couldn't fault him for that, because he was hard pressed to think of a single more antagonizing thing to do a person than to take a picture of them while they're pissed. Still, though, that face... Yamato looked like he could not possibly believe that Hibiki really expected him, of all people, to explain what married people did in hotel rooms. And not-married people, for that matter.  
  
    Which, really, struck Hibiki as incredibly delightful, so he decided to continue playing dumb as a brick to see if Yamato would do exactly that and give him some hilariously robotic version of the birds and the bees talk.  
  
    Yamato did not, but he did glare at Hibiki and also click the mouse pad a little more aggressively than was strictly necessary. "Which room am I booking?"  
  
    Apparently he wasn't having it. Feeling a little let down that he wasn't going to get to hear an impeccably clinical breakdown of sexy times in those dulcet tones, Hibiki sighed and scooted closer to him to get a better look at the pictures. Immediately, he made a face and jabbed a finger at the description. "It says it sleeps four!"  
  
    Whatever restraint he'd had collapsed in that moment, and Yamato rolled his eyes in a surprisingly dramatic circle. "It's a sleeper sofa, Hibiki."  
  
    "...That actually sounds awesome. Like one of those sweet wall beds, except, you know, in a sofa."  
  
    Yamato allowed himself an irritated sigh. "Fine. Single king it is."  
  
    Hibiki couldn't help but fall into a half-snort, half-giggle in the face of poor Yamato's dismay. "Relax. I'll sleep on the cool sofa bed if I'm wrong--"  
  
    "Which you are," Yamato asserted immediately, but Hibiki ignored him and continued.  
  
    "--and everything will be fine."  
  
    A few days and one plane trip later, Hibiki found himself staring grudgingly at the ceiling, his back already protesting and the garbage tier mattress squeaking beneath him with every tiny breath he took.  
  
    "...This actually sucks," he announced, and he was met with another warm chuckle from where Yamato lay sprawled out on the enormous bed above him. Hibiki rolled his head to the side and scowled at him.  
  
    "Does it?" Yamato crooned back to him. "I didn't want to assume."  
  
    Ugh.  
  
    Hibiki turned away from him a little petulantly and went back to staring at the ceiling. He was so bogged down with jet lag that he figured he'd fall asleep the instant he was horizontal, but to his endless astonishment, this shitty little fold up mattress was so uncomfortable that Hibiki was wide awake despite the feeling of stones weighing on his eyes. God, he wanted to sleep.  
  
    "You were right. This feels like trying to sleep on cardboard."  
  
    He could see Yamato peering over at him from the corner of his eye, but he was feeling just annoyed enough not to look back at him. "I'm sorry," he said. He sounded quite sincere.  
  
    It prodded him enough to meet Yamato's level gaze, and he pushed a sigh through through his nose. "Aren't you going to tell me you told me so?"  
  
    Yamato's head tilted ever so slightly, and another one of his crooked smiles seized his mouth. "Would you like for me to?"  
  
    Hibiki was sort of tempted to confess that he'd be happy to listen to Yamato read a fucking phone book for all he cared, but he managed to quash the urge and only giggled back at him. "Well, that's very magnanimous of you. Most people kind of relish that. But...you're not most people, so I should know better."  
  
    He shifted a little in a vain attempt to get comfortable and groaned loudly. "Yeah, no, I'm sure this is great if you have that condition where your spine is made of bendy straws. Ugh. I might just put it back and sleep on the actual couch."  
  
    He heard Yamato's steady typing die down until there was nothing but silence between them. When he opened his eyes again, Yamato was watching him with a strange expression he hadn't seen before. "Are you really going to stay down there all night?"  
  
    Hibiki blinked a little dumbly. "Yeah? Of course. You were right and I was wrong. I'm not going to kick you off the only bed. It's fine, I'm just bitching and moaning. It's really not that bad."  
  
    He watched Yamato's brow crease. "Do you have trouble sharing a bed?"  
  
    What the fuck. Share?! Hibiki almost blushed, which was patently ridiculous. He sat up and rubbed at the small of his back. "E- Er, you seem like the kind of person who appreciates his space." Like hell he was going to impose like that. Yamato was super hot and also super terrifying. He regarded Hibiki -- quite warmly and openly -- as his only friend, but that hardly erased the fact that Yamato carried 'intimidating' on himself like a second jacket.  
  
    He watched Yamato glance down at the enormous, empty swathe of bed beside him, and he realized with a start that Yamato had gotten comfortable on one half of the bed on purpose. His brain lurched stupidly. When Yamato looked back up at him, he smiled ever so slightly, as if some tiny part of him was worried that Hibiki was kind of slow on the uptake. "I don't foresee space being an issue," he said simply. Then he hesitated and raised both his eyebrows. "Unless you're trying to say that you prefer an...unusual sleep configuration."  
  
    "Oh. Er, no. Not that I know of."  
  
    Well. Who was he to ignore that kind of invitation? With his heart pulsing heavily in his stomach, Hibiki rolled off the fold-out and climbed onto the bed beside him. He could admit, if only in the privacy of his own mind, that he was half afraid Yamato would change his mind. But he did not.  
  
    Hibiki slipped beneath the plush comforter and the freshly cleaned sheets, and he allowed himself a fleeting look up at Yamato. "Thanks. Um, I actually don't know if I'm a weird sleeper. I don't think I've shared a bed anyone in several years. So if I'm annoying, you can just kick me out. I really don't mind. Or at least tell me so that I know in the future that I suck to sleep with."  
  
    Yamato chuckled again in a way that made Hibiki's stomach burn. "I'll be sure and report any bizarre habits of yours."  
  
    "Thanks. You're a real friend."  
  
    He was rewarded with a genuine smile. "It's good to know I'm not completely inept at it."  
  
    He could sense he was about to say something stupid. Yamato wasn't inept at anything. Well, he was still struggling a bit with empathy, but...he was getting there. Hibiki was proud of him. But he'd already divulged enough embarrassing shit in the last week that, rather than offer more, he reached for the remote and started surfing through the channels to find Filleted.  
  
    "I love that they always seem to be playing this any time we're in the room."  
  
    The bed was so much better. Hibiki practically sank into it, and he curled up on his side to partially watch the show and mostly focus on the fact that he could feel Yamato's thigh a few inches from his face. He was probably lying closer than he needed to, but if Yamato noticed, he didn't say anything.  
  
    "Hibiki?"  
      
    His eyes flickered open. "What's up?"  
  
    Yamato leaned back against the headboard and folded his arms. "Why does that man hate red onions so much?"


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

 

 

    After a few days spent sharing the bog standard, not-at-all-fit-for-a-King bed with Yamato, Hibiki had to admit to himself that sleeping with him was much less exciting than he'd secretly hoped. Every time they got back to the hotel after their days spent sight-seeing, Hibiki would change into his pajamas, crawl into bed, and get in a couple of episodes of Filleted or Cupcake Skirmish before he was out like a light. Yamato didn't go to bed until after he did, and he got up earlier too.  
  
    He was like a fricking machine. How Yamato didn't end the day as thoroughly wiped out as Hibiki did was mystifying, but he couldn't help but admire that. Even if it was weirdly frustrating in a way he had no room to complain about.  
  
    That particular morning, Hibiki woke to find the bed empty, and it brought a tiny frown to his face. Yamato was always awake first, but he was usually still sitting on the bed beside him when Hibiki woke. Fortunately, he wasn't afforded much time to be put out. As he rolled over, he spotted Yamato sitting on the little sofa near the door, and he was in the middle of buttoning his shirt.  
  
    Hibiki scoffed fondly and flopped back onto his back. "You and your oxfords," he mumbled, his voice still laden with sleep. Yamato looked over to him immediately.  
  
    "Good morning to you too." He finished buttoning up to just below his throat, and he pushed himself up to stand. Hibiki assumed it was so that he could get a better view of his slovenly, pitiful bedmate. Hibiki lolled his head to the side and flashed him a dozy grin.  
  
    "You keep pulling those out, I'm going to get suspicious that they're all you brought."  
  
    Yamato looked at him oddly, but his brows smoothed out when he realized Hibiki was being a smartass. He rolled his eyes and plucked a paper cup of coffee off the table that he handed to Hibiki.  
  
    The fact that he hadn't even bothered to defend himself made Hibiki raise his brows, even as he took the cup from Yamato. "...You don't actually own anything but oxfords, do you?"  
  
    For a split second, Yamato looked as if he were tempted not to answer, or to say something snarky. Instead, he said, "I do not," in a tone that somehow managed to be both demure and also snooty, as if he were challenging Hibiki to say something about it even as he acknowledged that it was kinda weird.  
  
    Hibiki stifled a warm chuckle and sat up so he could sip at his coffee. "Are you okay with us going to a mall? I want to take you shopping. We need to get you something a little more...casual."  
  
    He took another sip and glanced over to see Yamato peering down at himself, his brows furrowed and his lips a little tight. "Do I look strange?"  
  
    "God, no," Hibiki blurted. He felt like an idiot before both words were even all the way out of his mouth, and he could already feel the heat creeping up along the back of his neck. But he absolutely didn't want Yamato to take it that way. Even without his ridiculously cool jacket, Yamato looked fucking impeccable. Everything he owned was tailor made to him (probably because it literally was -- Hibiki wouldn't be even remotely surprised if that were the case). As much as he liked to poke fun at them, Yamato's oxfords looked really nice, with stiff collars and smooth material. He even folded and rolled the sleeves up around his elbows instead of bunching them up like a neanderthal, and they accentuated his gorgeous forearms in a way that made Hibiki's mouth water.  
  
    Honestly, Yamato looked so good that it hurt just to look at him sometimes, but it's not like Hibiki was about to tell him that. Rather, he cleared his throat and shook his head. "Seriously. No. You look great. But if you really only ever wear oxfords, it can't hurt to try something new, right? You might like it. I just figured we could find you something a little more comfortable."  
  
    Yamato looked thoughtful at that. "...Alright."  
  
    Hibiki loved how easy that was. It was pretty typical for Yamato to be apprehensive about whatever new thing Hibiki was coaxing him to try, but his genuine desire for new experiences always won out in the end. Hibiki was proud of him. "I bet we can find something you'll like. It won't be a whole new wardrobe by any means. Give me _some_ credit. It'd be a travesty to take all your oxfords."  
  
    He stayed in bed long enough to finish the coffee Yamato had so kindly made for him, but as soon as he was done, he rolled out from beneath the blankets and got dressed. Just the idea of getting to take Yamato to a mall had his mood skyrocketing. They hadn't ventured to one thus far, and Hibiki would eat Yamato's ridiculously long tie before he'd be willing to bet that Yamato had ever set foot inside one on his own.  
  
    As soon as he was ready, they headed out the door. While they ate breakfast at a restaurant within walking distance, Hibiki Googled for a mall that was close enough it wouldn't cost an arm and a leg in taxi fare. Not that Yamato seemed to mind. The longer they spent together, the more clear it became that money barely entered Yamato's conscience at all. Hibiki couldn't wrap his head around what it must be like for money to be no object whatsoever, so he stopped trying and shook the reminder out of his head for about the twelfth time since their vacation started.  
  
    It didn't take long for him to find one that met Yamato's lofty approval, likely because he didn't know the first thing about malls. They finished their meal, paid their tab, and flagged down a taxi to shuttle them to their destination.  
  
    By the time they arrived, it was still pretty early in the day. Hibiki was not at all surprised to see that it was pretty empty, but that suited them well enough. Yamato had made impressive strides in the whole 'being a human' department, but he still had a hard time dealing with huge crowds of people. Hibiki couldn't fault him for that.  
  
    Yamato seemed to appreciate the more modest crowd himself, because he relaxed by degrees the further inside they got. Hibiki bit back a grin and patted his bicep. "Et voila. Here we are. Not super exciting, but I wasted a glorious 60% of my youth in one of these. Not this one, obviously."  
  
    Yamato rewarded him with a faint smirk and lifted his head to take in the multiple stories stacked above them. "Doing what?"  
  
    Hibiki shrugged and scratched at the back of his head. "Shopping? Sometimes. But mostly not shopping, to be honest, because I didn't have a job. Daichi and I used to hang out near the fountains and figure out ways to convince our parents that the games we wanted to buy had educational value so they'd give us money."  
  
    A map popped up in the corner of his eye, and he was tempted to veer towards it since this place was so enormous. But he decided not to bother, since he doubted he would recognize many of the stores, and it seemed like more fun to let Yamato take the lead and see if his interest was piqued by anything in particular.  
  
    Of course, it wasn't. They passed by a brightly lit store that looked to be filled with nothing but candles, to which Yamato was aggressively indifferent, an electronics store that he was equally unimpressed by, and a pet store that actually caught Hibiki's attention instead. Naturally, Yamato refused to let him inside it lest they have to smuggle a kitten into the hotel.  
  
    "You're stone cold, you know?" Hibiki sighed at him and folded his arms. He could see Yamato look back at him, but he declined to meet his piercing gaze, lest he come down with the vapors or something.  
      
    "So I've heard," Yamato said simply.  
  
    His words made Hibiki frown a tiny bit, and he dropped his arms and looked back at him. "I wasn't being serious. Well- I mean you are," he corrected, "but it's not a bad thing. People like me need someone level-headed like you to keep us grounded. And from getting us kicked out of swanky hotels."  
  
    One of his sinful laughs eased out of him, and Yamato shook his head lightly. "I'm not sure there are many who would agree with you."  
  
    Hibiki wrinkled his nose. "Fuck 'em," he said bluntly. "You do what needs to be done." Hibiki stopped short and swung around to face him, tilting his head back and staring at Yamato with what he hoped was an earnest expression. "I know you can be kind of terrifying, and I wouldn't exactly say people are dumb to be intimidated by you, but I think you're brilliant and principled, and I really like you."  
  
    It was a more ardent confession than Hibiki imagined he'd make in a mall of all places, but the look on Yamato's face made it worth it. He looked...surprised and a tiny bit flattered and a lot bit appreciative. Probably he wasn't used to having his finer qualities described. Hibiki doubted he needed to hear them, but that didn't mean it didn't feel nice.  
  
    Yamato opened his mouth to respond, but before Hibiki was ready for it, Yamato turned away from and reared back. Immediately, Hibiki followed his gaze, and he also reared back. A few feet behind them was a solid three-foot tall zebra on wheels with a tiny little girl perched on top of it, and her grown ass father sitting right behind her. She drove the thing with a deadly serious expression, maneuvering it right past the both of them. As they came to a hallway, she thrust her left arm up, bent at an angle, and both he and Yamato stared at her as she slowly rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.  
  
    When Hibiki faced Yamato again, his hands were frozen in front of him, and he was staring at him as if demanding that Hibiki explain what the hell they just saw.  
  
    "I want one," Hibiki gasped.  
  
    " _No_."  
  
    It wasn't until Yamato threatened to walk out of the building that Hibiki grudgingly acquiesced, and their hunt for a decent clothes store resumed.  
  
    Truth be told, it smarted a little that their pseudo-romantic interlude had been so abruptly dispelled, but it seemed weird to try and force it. So Hibiki pushed it to the back of his mind and coaxed Yamato up to the second floor. He was determined to find something for him before the mall actually closed. It was just difficult when everything was either edgy teencore or yet more fucking oxfords, which kind of defeated the purpose.  
  
    As it happened, they did have better luck almost as soon as they crested the elevator, and Hibiki happily dragged Yamato behind him. "This looks promising."  
  
    Another faintly apprehensive expression crossed Yamato's face. "I'm going to have to take your word for it."  
  
    Hibiki was fine with that. He pulled Yamato all the way towards the men's section and dove in. "Tell me if something catches your eye, okay? Otherwise I'm just going to do what I want."  
  
    The only response he earned was a snort from Yamato. He could work with that, though. Hibiki was perfectly happy to rifle through the racks. "Hey, how about this one?" He pulled out this garish looking polka-dotted affair he was honestly kind of surprised to unearth, but it was totally worth it to see the abject disgust twisting Yamato's features together.  
  
    "Hibiki," he snapped. "I'm inexperienced, not tasteless."  
  
    He had to stifle a laugh before it echoed through the super trendily empty store. Tres minimalist. "You really hate it, huh?" He put it back while Yamato regarded him with an almost offended look on his face.  
  
    "It's the tackiest thing I've ever seen."  
  
    "Wow!" Hibiki bit his lip in a vain attempt to suppress the stupid smile that was trying to tug at his lips. "That's pretty harsh condemnation from someone who used an old man vagina demon."  
  
    He had kind of expected Yamato to get wound up again, but he actually sniffed faintly and folded his arms. "I can overlook that sort of homeliness in the name of utility. If you'll remember, its practicality far outweighed its more unfortunate features."  
  
    God, did Hibiki ever remember. He grimaced slightly as he recalled Yamato using that creepy thing to murder Hinako so thoroughly that Otome had to use Samarecarm at least three times.  
  
    "Uhm, noted." Hibiki paused and swatted him away. "Go wait for me by the dressing room and I'll meet you over there. With a real suggestion. Promise." It took a moment, but Yamato did bow out, leaving Hibiki to find him something he might like in peace.  
  
    He looked for a good ten minutes, and he was starting to fear he really wouldn't find anything that might suit his taste when he got lucky. Something yellow caught his eye, and Hibiki snatched up the long sleeve and pulled it out. It was pretty simple, a mostly-grey affair with a collar and sleeves in the same shade of yellow Yamato seemed to favor. Hibiki rather liked it. And it was extremely soft to boot.  
  
    Feeling a little less like this trip was going to be a bust, Hibiki tugged the hanger off the rack and wandered around until he found the dressing room. Yamato was leaning against the wall with his arms still crossed, his face cold and a little bit sour. The poor girl manning the rooms kept sending him furtive glances, like she was both extremely afraid of him and also overwhelmed by him. He only barely resisted the urge to whisper, "I know, right?".  
  
    "Hi," he called to her. "Just one, thanks."  
  
    She seemed relieved to see someone of a more normal-person countenance, and she handed him the little plastic sign as Yamato pushed himself away from the wall. "Here, come try this on. If you like it, we can get out of here. I think we're all funned out."  
  
    Yamato seemed like he agreed with that. He definitely did better when they were checking out cool spots to sight-see more than when they tried any shopping. He was being a good sport about it all, though, and he took the shirt and stepped into an unoccupied room with Hibiki close behind him.  
  
    "You can tell me if you don't like it, it won't hurt my feelings." Well. Not a lot, anyway. "But look, it's yellow."  
  
    "I noticed." Yamato was openly amused by his choice. He glanced over to it as he went to unbutton his shirt, and the moisture promptly evaporated from Hibiki's mouth. He hadn't really thought that one out. "You're going to make me feel like I'm predictable."  
  
    Hibiki couldn't bring himself to respond when he felt like his brain was short-circuiting. Yamato's neck was bent as he plucked each button free and peeled the shirt away from his skin, oblivious to the fact that Hibiki was staring at him like he was the only oasis in a desert the size of the Pacific.  
  
    Just before Yamato straightened up and saw him looking like a slack-jawed asshole, Hibiki turned away and busied himself with taking the new shirt off its hanger and presenting it to his companion.  
  
    Yamato took it from him and tugged it over his head. To Hibiki's delight, it fit really well. Not quite as flawlessly as his tailored oxfords, but...still. He couldn't help but admire him a little more openly than he'd have liked. "What do you think?" he asked, not a little bit of hope slipping into his voice. He watched Yamato peer at himself in the mirror with an uncertain sort of frown. Hibiki really liked it. It made him look softer, somehow. Less like an omnicompetent government leader and more like someone who liked Cupcake Skirmish and eating pizza at midnight with his dumb friend.  
  
    Hibiki bit his lip again before he smiled. "I think it looks great."  
  
    "Do you?" Yamato turned away from the mirror and stared at Hibiki's face like he was a drug-sniffing dog who could smell lies.  
  
    "Do you like it?"  
  
    "I do," Yamato said. His voice suggested even he was surprised by that. "It's...comfortable."  
  
    Hibiki brightened like the sun. "Hell yeah! Let's get it." After Yamato shed the shirt, Hibiki pretended to be extremely wrapped up in hanging it back up while he changed back into his oxford. They returned the plastic '1' back to the girl at the counter.  
  
    They got it paid for and left the mall without further incident, though they did pass by the little girl and her rad motorized zebra again before they left.  
  
    Yamato seemed to be in a good mood, and Hibiki was too.  
  
    But nothing could dull the pang of regret he felt when he wondered what he would have done if Yamato had the opportunity to respond to him earlier.  
  
    The possibilities of what he might have said plagued him all night.


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

 

 

    The flight to Seattle was one of the shorter ones they'd embarked on, but that didn't prevent them from arriving at the hotel utterly exhausted. It was one of the later flights they'd gone with so far, and a combination of luggage mishaps and a delayed plane meant it was past midnight when they finally made it to their hotel.  
  
    To Hibiki's total lack of surprise, Yamato seemed fine, if a little irritable about the pileup of annoyances they'd dealt with all day. He stood stiffly at the front desk, his spine rigid as any rod, and Hibiki leaned slightly against his arm while they waited to get the card to the room.  
  
    Unfortunately, that did not happen. In following the overarching theme of the day, it couldn't be that simple. The poor woman stood behind her computer, her eyes flickering from the monitor up to Yamato's face, which grew tighter and less patient as time passed. Hibiki didn't blame her for being distracted, especially when he peeked over to get a look himself. The sharpness of Yamato's brows made even his smiles look threatening; Hibiki couldn't even imagine trying to handle him when he was actually pissed.  
  
    "I- It looks like there was a mistake," she said, breaking the frosty silence between them. Temporarily, as it happened, because the silence soon returned and grew even frostier. "We've been overbooked. I'm so sorry for the inconvenience."  
  
    Even Hibiki couldn't keep his shoulders from sagging. He was already bone tired. The idea of having to go find a new hotel at midnight wasn't any more appealing to him than it clearly was to Yamato, whose cold eyes narrowed.  
  
    The woman perked up, though, and she cast Hibiki a furtively hopeful glance, likely because he looked less like he was about to ask for a manager, or like he was going to ask to buy the hotel and then fire everyone in it. Not that Yamato would do that. He just looked like he would.  
  
    "We can upgrade you to a party suite for the duration of your stay for no additional charge. Is that acceptable? It's just-"  
  
    Hibiki's eyes popped open wide. "A party suite?!"  
  
    She nodded. "Er, yes, but-"  
  
    "Hell yeah, that's totally acceptable. We'll take it." A surge of excitement lanced through him so hard he forgot he was sleepy momentarily, and he lifted his head with a grin to see Yamato pursing his lips.  
  
    "Hibiki..."  
  
    "Seriously, it's fine. I don't really want to go find another hotel, you know?"  
  
    Yamato hesitated, but he obviously agreed with that. He nodded slowly and folded his arms while Hibiki accepted the key card from her. "Thank you so much!" Once their check-in was finally complete, he grabbed Yamato's arm and his bag, and he headed off to track down their room. "Man, this place is huge. I've never stayed in a hotel that took up more than one building."  
  
    It took some effort, considering their original room was supposed to be in the first building, but Hibiki was super eager to see what a party suite was and how nice it would be, so he didn't find himself minding. He wasn't at all disappointed when they finally made it to their floor, and they came upon their room number to see tall, ivory doors. Hibiki's eyebrows rocketed up to his hairline.  
  
    "Check out the French doors! Oh man, this is so cool!" He swiped the key card and opened both doors at once, anticipation gripping at his insides and chasing the heaviness from his eyes.  
  
    The interior was even better than he'd been imagining. Hibiki felt sure his eyes were going to roll straight out of his head as he walked inside and took in the staggeringly massive room. It dwarfed all the other rooms they'd stayed in during this entire trip. The entire back wall and half of the left one was made up of floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the cityscape. The view was absolutely dazzling. To their left was an actual kitchen, complete with a sink and bar, and the bathroom opened up to their right. He was pretty sure the entirety of their last hotel room could fit inside the bathroom alone.  
  
    Hibiki laughed and covered his face. "This is fucking incredible, Yamato!" He dropped his bag to the ground and wandered inside to admire all the paintings that hung on the couple of walls that were actually walls.  
  
    "Hibiki."  
  
    "Look at this!" He shoved his face to the glass to stare down at the streets with awe bursting from him.  
  
    " _Hibiki_ ," Yamato snapped.  
  
    He swung around to face him and cocked his head. "What?"  
  
    "There's no _bed_."  
  
    Hibiki blinked. "Oh." Then he bit his lip and looked around again, as if he may have simply missed it in his boyish excitement. "...Oh," he said again, because he hadn't. Yamato was entirely correct. There was not one single bed in this entire room, which was ridiculous, because it clearly could have fit a small mattress store inside it if it dreamed big and believed in itself.  
  
    His shoulders sank. "Um, I think there is, actually."  
  
    As one, they both looked over to the large, plush looking sofa that was the only piece of furniture inside the room besides the desk sitting against one wall and the TV. It took more effort than both of them felt like exerting just then, but unless they wanted to attempt to sleep on the desk, they were left with little choice. Together, they yanked out the sleeper sofa, and then spent a few minutes just staring at it. Hibiki crossed his arms and frowned. "...I guess that's why they call it a 'party suite'. Who knew it was for actual parties?"  
  
    For some reason, Yamato wasn't amused by his attempt at bringing a little levity into their giant, bedless room, so Hibiki busied himself with looking for blankets. His efforts culminated in ruining Yamato's day further when he had to tell the man there were none beyond the thin sheets for the stupid couch mattress.  
  
    That went over like a lead balloon.  
  
    Ultimately it took an hour for them to get their belongings unpacked and get any actual blankets from the front desk, and then to actually climb into bed. Hibiki lay curled up under the crappy, fuzzy blue blanket in only his pajamas, and he tilted his head to see Yamato angrily typing on his laptop beside him. He wondered briefly if that was what a Yelp review sounded like in the wild.  
  
    "Yamato?"  
  
    The angry tapping stopped, and Yamato looked down at him quietly.  
  
    "Are you mad at me?"  
  
    He made a face at him. "Of course not." His typing resumed, but it did sound a little less angry. It made Hibiki feel at least marginally better.  
  
    All things considered, he didn't mind. The thin mattress wasn't a great deal better than the last one he'd attempted to sleep on, but it was wider, and the room really was just so phenomenally cool. All he had to do was turn his head if he wanted an eyeful of skyscrapers and brilliant lights. The other rooms were nice, certainly. Yamato Hotsuin was not going to tolerate a roach motel or something. But still, they were usually pretty isolated from whichever amazing city they were staying in, and once they got back to the room, it was easy to forget that they were in a foreign country that was new to them both.  
  
    But this room was nothing like that. For the first time, he actually _felt_ like he was in America even after the day was over, and it was kind of magical.  
  
    He lay there and admired the sky and the buildings while Yamato worked, but eventually he fell asleep with the tip of his nose mere inches from Yamato's thigh.  
  
    Like every other night, he slept through Yamato's own night rituals. He clutched at the cotton sheet and the thin blue blanket as he slept, but as the hours passed, his tossing and turning got to be too much even for him.  
  
    Near three in the morning, Hibiki woke to find that he had curled up in a tight ball in his sleep, and he was freezing his fucking ass off. Annoyed, he cracked one eye open, half-way suspicious that Yamato would somehow still be awake and would finally have to admit that he'd actually evolved past the need for sleep at all.  
  
    But he was not. Hibiki blinked stupidly, still sluggish with exhaustion, and he rolled over with a pitiful shiver wracking all his limbs. Yamato was sleeping beside him with his back facing him. Hibiki was kind of surprised to see that he was lying on his side. For some reason he had sort of imagined that Yamato would sleep straight on his back with his arms crossed over his chest like a vampire. He looked perfectly comfortable too, even with his extremely inadequate blanket draped over him.  
  
    Hibiki frowned. Then he shivered again, so hard that his teeth actually rattled, and he grumpily yanked the blankets tighter around himself. Apparently if they ever needed to sleep in a tundra, Yamato could handle it without issue. With a sigh, Hibiki flopped back down onto his back and winced as the metal squeal of springs cut through the air. Yamato didn't move, though, and Hibiki relaxed after a time.  
  
    There was no way he was going to fall back asleep, no matter how badly he wanted to. How the hell was it so cold anyway? It had been perfectly comfortable before he went to bed. Did Yamato crank the thermostat down before he followed? It's not like Hibiki would have known, since he was already snoring by then.  
  
    Eugh, this was miserable. Hibiki rolled over in his cocoon of blankets, and he stared at Yamato's back and chewed at his lip. "Yamato," he whispered. He inched closer and sat up, leaning over him. "Are you awake?"  
  
    That sounded so stupid even to him, but it wasn't as if there was a way to ask it without sounding like a moron. Whether he asked 'are you awake' or 'are you asleep', both those questions could only really be answered one way.  
  
    He did not receive one, however. Yamato was breathing lightly, clearly still asleep despite Hibiki being a noisy asshole right behind him. He was perfectly still, perfectly comfortable and...god, he was ridiculously warm. Hibiki could feel his body heat without even touching him, and it made him positively ache.  
  
    Hibiki hesitated several moments before he threw caution to the wind and inchwormed his way closer. He closed the gap between them and pressed himself up against Yamato's back, and he sighed deeply as heat seeped into him even through his shirt. Which, Hibiki was delighted to note, was the one he'd bought for him at the mall. He was briefly touched before he was distracted by the feeling of Yamato's bare legs blistering against his own.  
  
    It felt exquisite, and he was shocked as hell to feel how soft Yamato's skin was. Ugh, fuck, he was such a creeper. Yamato was just trying to sleep, and there Hibiki was non-consentually spooning him to steal his body heat like some kind of dorky incubus. He felt terrible about it, but it was impossible for him to sacrifice that delicious warmth now that he had it and could finally sleep.  
  
    He was just getting comfortable when he felt Yamato roll over so hard he squished Hibiki down into the mattress, then squinted down at him.  
  
    Hibiki actually squealed in fear.  
  
    "Oh god, I'm so sorry," he blurted. "I thought you were asleep."  
  
    Yamato squinted at him harder, which Hibiki could only appreciate because he'd been awake creeping on him so long that his eyes had adjusted to the dark. "I was," Yamato mumbled, "until I felt someone put ice blocks on the backs of my legs."  
  
    Hibiki glanced down and frowned. 'Ice blocks' seemed kind of dramatic. "Um, yeah. I'm freezing my ass off. It woke me up."  
  
    Yamato shifted until his heavier weight eased up off him, and his shoulder came away from Hibiki's chest as he moved to sit up. He paused, then reached down to grasp at Hibiki's bare thigh and pin it down to the bed.  
  
    His heart slammed so hard up into his throat that Hibiki nearly choked on it. He pressed himself hard into the mattress as Yamato leaned over him, and his eyes darted down to his sprawled legs as he prayed to himself over and over. _Please don't get a boner please don't get a boner please don't get a boner_ , his mind spat like a mantra, and as it became obvious that his pleas were in vain, Hibiki switched to praying _please let it be too dark for him to see that I have a boner_.  
  
    Yamato finally let go of him and sat back. "How are you so frigid?"  
  
    "How are you _not_?" Hibiki blurted. "It's like the armpit of Mt. Fuji in here."  
  
    He could see Yamato's face pinch in confusion, like he was trying to follow that particular simile. But after a beat he simply frowned. "Why didn't you just adjust the thermostat?"  
  
    "You seemed pretty comfortable. I didn't want to burn you out. Erm, not that that wouldn't have been a better decision than spooning you in your sleep." Hibiki sighed and curled up on his side, hoping that it came across as him trying to get comfortable in an attempt to fall asleep again and not as a transparent effort to hide his stupid boner. "Sorry about that, by the way. Er, the spooning."  
  
    "The what?" Yamato fell silent. "Oh," he added, then snorted. "Clever." He didn't actually sound like he thought it was clever, but was amused enough by it nevertheless. Hibiki kind of hoped he didn't think he'd coined that himself or something.  
  
    Finally, Yamato shifted to lie down again. Hibiki closed his eyes and tried not to think about how cold he still was when he was completely taken aback. Heat surged into his bare back as he felt Yamato drop down behind him, and he stiffened in his shock. Yamato's entire body draped up against him, though his arm remained tucked between his chest and Hibiki's skin. For some reason he didn't find himself minding terribly.  
  
    "Is this alright?" Yamato asked, his voice dozy. He was obviously ready to get back to it after Hibiki had so rudely interrupted him with his stupid ice block legs.  
  
    "...Yeah." Hibiki felt completely breathless. His heart was still fluttering wildly inside him.  
  
    "Good. Go to sleep," he demanded.  
  
    It took awhile, but eventually, Hibiki did. One of the last coherent thoughts he had before dozing off was that of course, if Yamato Goddamned Hotsuin was going to spoon anyone at all, he was going to be the big spoon, thanks very much.  
  
    Only natural.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **content warning** : The first few paragraphs contain some mild gore. If you'd like to skip past that, "Hibiki!" marks the scene transition.

* * *

 

 

    The street around him was entirely empty. It took him a few moments to notice, but when he did, Hibiki fell still. "...Yamato?" he called. His voice echoed back to him dimly, but the faint hope he nursed for any other response was met with disappointment.  
  
    He was very much alone. The sky was dark, the street abandoned, and the air was heavy and still with a silence that pressed down over him like a blanket.  
  
    Nothing in the world made a sound, not even his own footsteps, until the distant sound of crackling rang in his ears. It sounded like something was on fire.  
  
    Hibiki turned around.  
  
    The street came alive with noise. The alien scrape of metal against air roared between the buildings, one silver face rolling out from behind another and another until its ever-expanding body cut straight through the walls on either side of it. Hibiki shrank away from the thing as fear spiked through his veins.  
  
    Another chilling sound blasted from its faces, and Hibiki's senses were utterly consumed by fire.  
  
    It sprang up from beneath his feet, enveloping him fully, chewing at his clothes and melting his shoes to the pavement. He could smell nothing but singed human hair and scorched cotton, could hear nothing but some disembodied scream that drowned out even Arcturus' otherworldly cries, could feel nothing but blinding agony. Hibiki collapsed, his knee slamming so hard into the asphalt that it split open around bone, and pain shot up his thigh and rattled his hip.  
  
    And then Arcturus did it again.  
  
    All he could see was fire. It closed around him, devouring him from the legs up. The flames sank so deeply into his flesh even his bones felt like ash. They crawled up his chest, his skin splitting into cracks that spidered up to his throat. He tasted blood in his mouth.  
  
    In that moment, Hibiki knew why Hell was a lake of fire.  
  
    "Hibiki!"  
  
    He felt hands come around his ruined biceps, and cold air blasted against him.  
  
    Hibiki jerked awake. Yamato bent over him, his fingers curled hard around Hibiki's arms. But he couldn't bring himself to speak, even to reassure him. Hibiki made a desperate bid for air, but his lungs felt choked by smoke. His breath came thin and labored as he tried to collect himself, and he grasped at Yamato's shoulders with fear and disorientation and an utterly demoralizing need to cry warring inside his head.  
  
    Then nausea slammed into him. Hibiki bucked hard, forcing Yamato off him before he rolled out of bed. "B- Bathroom," he gasped. The cold slats of laminate bit into the soles of his feet as Hibiki hauled his ass into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.  
  
    He wretched so violently into the toilet it actually kind of pissed him off. He'd never _vomited_ over a fucking nightmare before, but his stomach was churning inside him without an ounce of mercy. When the nausea finally subsided enough to at least be tolerable, Hibiki sat back and covered his face. His skin was completely slick with sweat, but at least it wasn't cracked and mottled with burns.  
  
    What the fuck was wrong with him? He'd faced Arcturus _months_ ago. Now he was going to have dreams about it for the first time?  
  
    Hibiki sighed and slouched over to the mirror, and as he took in his own appearance, he was absolutely mortified to see dried tear tracks on his face. He had actually cried about a nightmare in front of Yamato.  
  
    Unbelievable. He slammed the water on with an impatient jerk of his hands and splashed it onto his face, wiping away all the sweat and tears a little more roughly than he perhaps should have. Shame was gnawing away at him as effectively as any fire. God, he hoped Yamato couldn't see him in the dark.  
  
    Fuck. Hibiki flipped the lid shut and sank down onto the toilet to bury his face in both hands. Why now? He'd survived. He'd lived to tell the tale, and he'd spared his friends a lot of pain. He had barely even thought about it until now. Had that seasick terror just been waiting, crouched gleefully in the back of his mind until the most humiliating opportunity possible presented itself?  
  
    He spent a few minutes feeling sorry for himself while he tried to catch his breath, and when he finally felt like he could face Yamato, Hibiki climbed to his feet and flushed the toilet. He reached up to rub at his throat a little self-consciously. Phantom pain still lanced through him every so often. Small mercy that at least it wasn't as intense as the dream had been. He sighed again and eased the door open, not wanting to disturb Yamato more than he already had. It was, after all, the second time that week he'd woken Yamato up in the middle of the night. Frankly, he'd have preferred a repeat of that first time, awkward boner and all.  
  
    But he wasn't asleep. Hibiki nearly jumped out of his skin as he stepped out to see Yamato waiting for him. "Y-"  
  
    He stopped short when Yamato stepped closer to him, hesitating briefly before he coaxed Hibiki forward and put his arms around him. Hibiki was convinced he was dreaming again. His capacity for speech abandoned him as he stood there like an idiot and gripped at Yamato's back on instinct. It felt...amazing.  
  
    If it was a dream, he knew better than to squander that opportunity. Hibiki shoved his face against Yamato's chest and held him tightly, his fingers clutching at the sinfully soft material of Yamato's shirt. It made his heart swell to know Yamato liked wearing it so much, even if only in the hotel room.  
  
    "Are you alright?"  
  
    Hibiki nodded mutely against him and took a stuttering breath. He wasn't exactly. He still hurt, and he still couldn't breathe properly, and he was still addled out of his fucking mind with exhaustion. But...he was alright enough when Yamato was so willing to offer this to him simply because he knew Hibiki needed it.  
  
    "I'm really sorry," Hibiki muttered. With deep regret, he pulled away from that blissful embrace and made his way towards the pullout bed. He dropped down on it with a slight bounce and a scrape of springs that seized him in a full-bodied cringe. "I didn't mean to wake you."  
  
    Yamato sat down on the other side of the mattress. "There's no need to apologize. Try to get some rest."  
  
    Hibiki wasn't particularly confident he'd manage that, but it probably wouldn't hurt to try. He nodded back and slid beneath the covers. His heart was still pounding an unsteady rhythm against his chest. Yamato moving to lie down beside him made him feel better, though, and he closed his eyes and hoped desperately that he wouldn't tumble headfirst into a continuation of that nightmare.  
  
    He didn't, but by the time the sun was up, the best he could manage was getting small snatches of sleep. It was still ridiculously early, but lying there stewing about it seemed like a waste of time. Hibiki pried himself up and flipped his phone open to stare at it a little blearily.  
  
    There was a text from Abel that he responded to, then shut his phone again and dropped his head. Yamato was still asleep. It marked the first time Hibiki had ever woken up -- properly, anyway -- before him. It was a little bit surreal to see his sleeping face in the daylight. Hilariously enough, his eyebrows were pinched, like he was annoyed about something even in sleep. Hibiki was awfully twitterpated by it.  
  
    Sadly, he didn't have long to admire his face. Yamato shifted slightly, tilted his head towards him and opened his eyes. Then he frowned. "This is unusual." He sat up and turned to face Hibiki. "Were you unable to sleep?"  
  
    "Oh, no. I did," he assured him, his lips quirking into a tired smile. "Just not a lot. I'm okay."  
  
    His frown didn't soften any, but Yamato did seem satisfied by that. He nodded shortly and climbed out of the bed. Hibiki made a sincere effort not to stare at him. He also failed in that endeavor, and his eyes dipped straight downwards. Obviously he'd sussed out how Yamato preferred to sleep during the unfortunate spooning incident and found his legs were bare, but he hadn't really thought about it beyond that. Apparently, Yamato favored boxer briefs.  
  
    Hibiki watched him go into the kitchen a little dozily, draped against the couch and clutching loosely at his phone. All things considered, he didn't mind being set on fire when it meant preserving that ass.  
  
    He was still chuckling at his own joke when Yamato swung around with a fresh bottle of water clutched in his fingers. Hibiki came dangerously close to choking on his tongue as his gaze zeroed in on him. It was so unfair for one person to be that attractive when he was still sleep-rumpled and dressed like he was hunkered down for a hangover. His gaze swept over Yamato as if trying to memorize him. Hibiki admired the way the hem of his shirt rode just over one of his hip bones, baring a sliver of skin, until his eyes slid steadily lower to take in the shape of his-  
  
    Hibiki threw one hand to his face and hurried to stare at the window. Fuck, he was being such a creep!  
  
    The sudden buzz of his phone distracted him long enough for him to snatch it up, and he flipped it open to see another text from Abel.  
  
_did u try to peep his dong_  
  
    He snapped his phone shut and threw it to the foot of the bed before his head slammed back into the couch. Abel knew he was being a creep too, and he wasn't even there!  
  
    When he opened his eyes again, Yamato was staring at him with a mild frown tugging at the corners of his lips. "What's the matter?"  
  
    Since relaying Abel's extremely eloquent callout was off the table, Hibiki only snorted and made a sour face. "Just lamenting what a thirsty loser I am." Yamato cocked his head at him, then closed the distance between them. For a split second, Hibiki was terrified that his creepy staring _hadn't_ gone unnoticed, and his mind started to scream in panic until Yamato stopped in front of him and offered him the water bottle.  
  
    Hibiki didn't take it right away. He stared at Yamato in something like disbelief before his insides nearly exploded with warmth. For someone who was so cold and aloof and scary, he could charm Hibiki so effortlessly. A helpless laugh burst out of him, and he reached out and took the chilly bottle from him. His stomach roiled with so many butterflies he could advertise it as a terrarium and start charging admission.  
  
    "Thank you," he murmured.  
  
    The bottle was already open. Yamato must have taken a drink while Hibiki was busy perving on him. It reminded him of Daichi's over-the-top excitement when Io had let him have her half-empty bottle of water the first day they'd spent together. The memory made him smile, then cringe. Perhaps this was his penance for all those times he made fun of Daichi and his...enthusiasm towards girls.  
  
    Hibiki huffed and took a sip. The cold water actually helped, and he handed the bottle back to Yamato feeling a little better. "Do you mind if we have breakfast here at the hotel? To be honest, I'm still kind of wiped out."  
  
    To his credit, Yamato didn't hesitate. "Of course." He strode away from him then, mercifully, and left Hibiki to his own devices while he got dressed.  
  
    As embarrassing as his morning had been, it had at least commanded his attention away from that dream -- temporarily. It frustrated him that it came back to nag him when they were trying to eat breakfast in the first floor restaurant. The nausea swam up in him with such a vengeance that it put him off anything but toast.  
  
    All the while, Yamato watched him butter it half-heartedly. "Perhaps we should reconsider our schedule," he suggested neutrally. His words coaxed a frown out of Hibiki.  
  
    "I don't want to trap you in the hotel room just because I had a bad night. Though, I admit that something less, uh, harrowing probably wouldn't go amiss."  
  
    Yamato eyed him, but he relented and reached for his phone, no doubt to start Googling for alternatives to their original plan. While he looked and mentioned a few places of potential interest, Hibiki stared at his toast feeling diminished and tired.  
  
    It wasn't a matter of if, but the degree to which Yamato would be disappointed in him if he knew Hibiki was so completely out of sorts because of a bad dream about Arcturus of all things. They had triumphed spectacularly. What was the point in dwelling on it? Besides, Hibiki hadn't even thought about it in ages. So why was he dreaming of it at all?  
  
    He frowned again and prodded idly as his bread, no longer feeling up to even eating that much. Truthfully, he wasn't sure why he was so afraid to just tell Yamato what the content of the dream even was. It's not like he was going to ask Hibiki to write a dissertation about it. If he didn't want to go into depth on it, he doubted Yamato would expect him to.  
  
    No, he did know. Yamato had expressed repeatedly how much he respected Hibiki's bravery. His courage. Any time Hibiki assured him he wasn't intimidated by the enormous burden of responsibility he was constantly being asked to shoulder, Yamato would give him one of those gorgeously proud smiles and declare how he'd already known Hibiki wasn't. Yamato had an unshakeable faith in him, and only Hibiki knew he hadn't earned it.  
  
    Only he knew that the Hibiki Yamato admired so much didn't actually exist.  
  
    Knowing that, perhaps his shitty dream was not so out of the blue. Hibiki wasn't going to tell Yamato what his nightmare was any sooner than he was going to admit how much he liked him and daydreamed about kissing him.  
  
    Why, though? He already knew how much Yamato appreciated pussyfooting and being coy (zero) just from his interaction with Daichi, and poor Daichi had just been trying to get him a gift. If he knew how much Hibiki had been pining like a lovesick school boy, he'd probably be disgusted.  
  
    But...disgusted or no, wasn't that exactly why he was so afraid? Knowing how little patience Yamato had for that made it all the worse. If he had no time for coyness, then the fact that he had yet to tell Hibiki he was interested in something more could only mean he wasn't.  
  
    Hibiki's heart plummeted, and he pushed the plate away from himself and took a sip of water. What little bit of lemon there was in it was still enough to make his stomach turn, so he scowled and pushed that away too.  
  
    Ugh. It felt stupid to even expect Yamato to do something as ridiculous as make a love confession. Hibiki knew very well that Yamato considered Hibiki his only friend, the first true friend he'd ever had. Leave it to Hibiki to immediately ruin that by even considering telling him, _I know you're not accustomed to having someone you regard well enough to call your friend, but that's actually not good enough for me -- I'd like you to fuck me into that shitty couch mattress so hard the fire department has to come scrape me off it with a spatula_.  
  
    "Hibiki?"  
  
    He blinked and jerked into awareness. Yamato's arctic eyes were steady on his face. He came dangerously close to rhapsodizing about the color of them when he remembered he had already zoned out once. "Sorry, did you say something?"  
  
    A slow scowl pulled across Yamato's face, and Hibiki realized he had been talking the entire time he'd been commiserating to himself. "I- I'm so sorry. I didn't realize I had checked out like that." Nothing he said was enough to quite ease the scowl, but Yamato didn't look pissed. He looked concerned.  
  
    "...Hibiki..."  
  
    Yamato set his fork down and leaned back in his seat, though his eyes never left Hibiki's face. Hibiki felt himself tense. He spoke again, his voice measured. "I realize that, as far as sympathetic ears go, I'm...not exactly ideal," Yamato admitted. "But, if that's something you feel like you need, I would be happy to lend you one."  
  
    Oh. That was the last thing Hibiki had expected to hear. He offered Yamato a lopsided smile and opened his mouth to speak, but he hastily shut it again as Yamato continued.  
  
    "I hope- No." Yamato shook his head and tightened his lips slightly. "I have given you a reason -- er, several -- to think me unavailable for that...sort of thing." He was clearly uncomfortable with the subject matter at hand, given it was the first time Hibiki had ever heard him stumble over his words even slightly. It was kind of sweet, especially since he pressed on despite it. "However, I _do_ hope that I haven't given you cause to feel as if I would think less of you for that. For anything."  
  
    Hibiki was stunned into silence. Yamato had hit the crux of it, hadn't he? Hibiki _was_ afraid that Yamato would think less of him. He was too scared to tell the man how he felt about him because part of him was afraid he wasn't good enough. And while he was busy being insecure, Yamato had accepted it all, had allowed Hibiki to cling to him when he was upset and turned around and offered that to him unprompted the very next time Hibiki seemed to need it.  
  
    He felt heat sting at the backs of his eyes as he met Yamato's piercing gaze, and he swallowed. "...I had a nightmare that I was on fire."  
  
    Yamato inclined his head once. "I see." Finally, he broke his hypnotic gaze and peered at his phone. "I think we should return to the room and consider rescheduling for tomorrow."  
  
    "But-"  
  
    "I would prefer it," Yamato added.  
  
    Relief flooded him. Just a day in with Yamato sounded heavenly. "I think that would be nice."  
  
    They paid their ticket and headed back upstairs. It would seem they had a lot to talk about. Having confessed his dream, as dumb as that was, felt surprisingly gratifying. As Yamato had promised, he didn't judge him or make fun. He simply accepted it.  
  
    Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to consider confessing other things.  
  
    Though he was, admittedly, not ready to cop to peeping dongs. That'd have to come later.


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

 

    Despite his private vow to finally confront Yamato about his ridiculously embarrassing schoolboy crush on him, Hibiki failed to confess anything at all. When they arrived back to the room, Yamato lay on the pullout with the TV on and his laptop on his thighs, and Hibiki curled up beside him and napped.  
  
    He needed it, really. Lying beside Yamato in the daylight made him feel safe and comfortable enough to catch up on all the sleep he'd missed last night. He dozed on and off again until close to lunchtime. He finally stirred, then, and opened up his phone to check the time.  
  
    "How are you feeling?"  
  
    Hibiki lifted his head to see Yamato peering at him with concern on his face. "Much better," he assured him. He tossed Yamato a genuine smile and rolled onto his side to face him a little more fully.  
  
    "Good. I'm glad to hear it."  
  
    Silence lapsed between them. Hibiki dropped onto his back again and pulled into a full-bodied stretch. He lifted his arms so hard it looked like he was trying to draw cobwebs out from between his joints. It made him feel better, though, and he went slack with a little yawn.  
  
    "Eugh, I am kinda hungry though." He had thrown up his dinner last night and then gone on to not eat breakfast, so it was little wonder his stomach was protesting. It gurgled unhappily in the brief quiet and coaxed a frown across Hibiki's face.  
  
    Yamato shut his laptop and slid it onto the bed. "I don't doubt it. Are you up to going out and picking something up, or would you prefer to order in?"  
  
    Hibiki was feeling better, but not _that_ much better. He hesitated, then pushed himself up to sit. "I think I'd rather order in, but if you're not hungry it seems like a waste to pay a delivery fee. What about room service?"  
  
    "I did see a menu for that. Hold on." Yamato edged off the bed and fetched a menu from the desk. He handed it to Hibiki from over the back of the sofa and then sat down beside him. "I've no idea what they have available, but if anything catches your eye, let me know."  
  
    Hibiki was curious himself. He'd never actually ordered room service before, but it always seemed like it'd be kinda rad. He pried the menu open, though not before he briefly ran his fingers across the fancy leather cover. But as soon as he took in the very first breakfast item (printed in a pretentious script font because of course it was), Hibiki balked and nearly dropped it. "Are you fucking serious? They want $18 for a bowl of _cereal_?!"  
  
    Yamato raised his brows slightly. "I presume that's unreasonable."  
  
    Hibiki almost snorted at him in disbelief, but he was quick to cover it with a cough. "I could buy five _boxes_ of cereal for $20. $18 for a bowl of cereal and a glass of milk is completely insane." He snapped the menu shut and handed it back to Yamato with a shake of his head. "I think that put me off food again. Honestly."  
  
    Yamato almost didn't take it from him. He frowned sharply at Hibiki before he finally accepted the menu. "You need to eat something. I'd sooner pay for some overpriced cereal than see you starve yourself."  
  
    Aww. Though he knew Yamato didn't really care about money because he didn't have to, Hibiki was still touched by the sentiment. He chewed at his lip and leaned close to him. "Well, are you hungry? You never actually said earlier."  
  
    Yamato nodded. "I could eat." He got up again and rounded the sofa to pick up his laptop and search for a restaurant that would deliver, since Hibiki was so offended by the hotel prices. Which was completely fair. Talk about highway robbery. While Yamato was busy, Hibiki sat back and opened up his phone to see a couple of missed texts from Abel.  
  
_have u boned yet_  
  
    Apparently Hibiki had neglected to respond in a timely fashion, because Abel had followed that text up with another that said _have u taken the d train to fucktown_.  
  
    Hibiki made a valiant effort not to crack up with laughter, but he couldn't help it. He covered his mouth with his hand and angled his phone away from Yamato just in case he could see it, then moved to type an incredulous reply.  
  
_No, you ass. I'd have told you. Or at least figured you'd notice Hell having frozen over._  
  
    He closed it back when his response finished sending, but it didn't take Abel more than a few minutes to answer him with another deeply irreverent message.  
  
_omg hibiki what are u waiting for u weiner? a choir of angels to descend from the heavens and be like 'yamatos thirst for u is visible from space, heres a photo courtesy of nasa'?_  
  
    Another unattractive peal of laughter burst out of him that he covered a bit too late, and he shifted over to see Yamato staring at him. "Uhm, Abel texted me," he explained. The scrunch of his nose told Hibiki exactly what Yamato thought about _that_ , but he was at least kind enough not to say anything. Instead, he motioned towards his screen.  
  
    "There's a Japanese takeout restaurant nearby that will deliver here. I realize we agreed on 'broadening our taste', but I admit it's what I'd prefer. Is that alright?"  
  
    Hibiki blinked a little dumbly before he smiled. "Yeah, of course. I think that sounds nice."  
  
    He bent his neck over his phone and hurried to fire back another text while Yamato made the order. _You are the worst. Stop making me laugh when I'm mad at you. And stop exaggerating._  
  
    Abel's retort came so fast Hibiki was sure he'd been practically sitting on his phone.  
  
_u cant be mad at me. im too charming_  
  
    Then a few moments passed, and a second text came through. _what am i exaggerating about?_  
  
    His lips pursed into a mild frown. If Abel was trying to be coy, he'd have made it a lot more obvious, which meant he was probably being sincere. _Come off it_ , he typed back, a faint irritation needling at the back of his neck. _The only thirsty one is me. He's not a big baby who trips over his own feet every time I so much as look at him like I do. The idea that he feels the same way about me would be laughable if it wasn't so depressing._  
  
    He sent that to him and flicked his phone shut with a curt snap before he put it down on the arm of the sofa and leaned back. Ugh, he regretted sending it already. Now he sounded pissy at both Abel and Yamato when the only person he was mad it was himself. A few minutes into his stewing, his phone buzzed again, but Hibiki ignored it. He didn't move again until a knock sounded at the door.  
  
    Yamato got up to answer it and collect the food. Hibiki was surprised they'd actually brought it up to the door rather than make them go downstairs and get it. Maybe that was a perk of staying at a hotel that charged $18 for a bowl of cereal.  
  
    Fortunately, the food did curb his edge of irritation. He and Yamato sat side by side in the bed, and Hibiki was delighted to see that one of the boxes had takoyaki inside. "Oh, wow, I can't believe they actually had that on the menu!" How very nostalgic. They hadn't been afforded the opportunity to have takoyaki together since before they left on their vacation.  
  
    Yamato nodded. His face was neutral, but Hibiki could read him well enough to know he was as close to delighted as Hibiki had ever seen him. "I was surprised myself. It's been awhile."  
  
    He plucked a piece of it out with his chopsticks and popped it into his mouth. It was actually pretty good, if not as spectacular as the takoyaki they'd had during the first run through the apocalypse. Still, it did hit the spot. He ate a couple more before he decided he probably ought to apologize to Abel for being a snappy ass at him, and he flipped open his phone to read the message waiting for him.  
  
_didn't he erase himself from existence for you?_  
  
    He stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity. Abel was right. And he was actually using punctuation, so he was being deadly serious. Hibiki slowly put his phone away and looked over to watch Yamato.  
  
    Erased himself from existence... When it came down to it, Yamato didn't hesitate. He believed Hibiki could change the fate of the world, and he'd sacrificed himself to give him that chance. He erased himself from history, abdicated the only identity he'd ever had only to be replaced by Miyako, almost died in the Akasha Stratum in his effort to save Hibiki's life. And he'd never asked for anything at all. Yamato never complained, or seemed to want anything in return for everything he'd done. When confronted about a suitable gift, Yamato had only asked for Hibiki's company.  
  
    Overwhelming...something gripped at him tightly, and he hadn't the faintest idea what it was. Gratitude? Appreciation? Love?  
  
    By now Yamato had noticed his staring, and he met Hibiki's eyes.  
  
    "Yamato?"  
  
    "Yes?"  
  
    He swallowed then. "Can I ask you about the Astrolabe?"  
  
    He had definitely surprised him with that one, but Yamato handled it well. He set his chopsticks down in the box and tilted towards him. "Of course. What would you like to know?"  
  
    Hibiki ducked his head and prodded at his box of noodles. "I was curious about it before, but we didn't exactly have time to chat about it when we were trying to save the world, so...I guess it slipped my mind until now. I know it's sort of irrelevant since we can't use it anymore, but I was wondering what it was like."  
  
    He could see the slight confusion tugging at Yamato's features. "What specifically did you mean?"  
  
    "Well..." He lifted his head again and forced himself to meet Yamato's chilly eyes. "I saw a bit of it while we were there, and I remember what you've told us about it. I understand how it works in theory, but it's kind of hard to translate that to practice. Like, I could see the data shifting where you were manipulating it, but it didn't mean anything to me. Could you understand it?"  
  
    "Ah." Yamato polished off the last of the takoyaki after Hibiki turned it down, and he sat back to consider his question. "You're right, the data visible from where we were isn't analogous to any language you and I are familiar with. Essentially, I could understand it due to my control over the Dragon Stream. So, even I couldn't look at it and read it as if it were English or Japanese on paper."  
  
    "Okay. That makes sense." He wasn't sure if that made him feel better or worse, especially since Yamato had just clearly stated he could understand it regardless. "Can you tell me more about that? Like...I know you said you were manipulating my data, but I'm not sure I get what that means. What exactly _is_ my data?"  
  
    A faint smile curled Yamato's mouth. Hibiki nearly sighed like a besotted schoolboy, but he resisted the urge. "If I were to ask you what you thought your data was, I suspect you'd already have a very accurate idea. Essentially, your data is everything that makes you who you are. Just a moment." Yamato grabbed their empty boxes and climbed out of the bed. He threw away their trash, then grabbed a pen and a memo pad from the desk that he brought back to Hibiki. "Imagine it like this."  
  
    He avoided his own unofficial 'side' of the bed and sat down right beside Hibiki, where he presented the pad to him and wrote Hibiki's name at the bottom. Above it it, he started writing physical attributes. "Consider your data to be like an upside-down pyramid. Your physical self is at the bottom -- your body, your appearance. This is the easiest to conceive of as 'data' because these things are observable facts. You're Japanese. You have black hair and blue eyes. Etcetera. However, the aspects of your personality are also data, despite being unobservable in a sensory aspect."  
  
    Hibiki nodded slowly. "Alright. I'm following."  
  
    Yamato indulged in a warm smirk. "Of course you are." He went back to the pad before Hibiki could explode with yet more butterflies, and he started writing above the physical aspects he'd listed. "In the event your personality was amputated from you, you'd no longer be Hibiki Kuze. Yes, your physical data has, presumably, not changed, but your identity would fundamentally be different." Hibiki leaned over his arm to watch him write, and his stomach melted into a puddle. He had written 'intelligent', 'strong-willed', and 'brave'.  
  
    But he continued speaking as if he weren't shattering Hibiki's world. "Of course, your personality doesn't exist in a vacuum. We'll save the nature-versus-nurture debate for another day, but for now, let's assume nurture is solely responsible for your personality. This is where your memories come in, at the top of this hypothetical pyramid of data. Without your memories, you're also not the same person. Your experiences make you who you are. All these things, obviously, are intertwined. One cannot exist without the other. So--" Yamato flicked the pen and indicated Hibiki's physical self at the very bottom of the pyramid.  
  
    "This is why Canopus tried to attack your physical data. Without your physical self as the foundation, the rest of it no longer matters."  
  
    A shiver tore down his spine at the idea that Arcturus could have completely erased him from the universe itself. "I- I see. So...okay. That all makes sense, and was more or less what I had figured, but where does my data stop and someone else's start? I guess I'm still kind of tripping out how you were able to find my data in the middle of billions of other people, you know?"  
  
    Yamato laughed softly. "That was the easiest part. I simply found myself."  
  
    "Huh?" Hibiki felt stupid for blurting it out, but that was the last thing he'd expected to hear. "What do you mean?"  
  
    "To tell you the truth, I'm not entirely sure if that was even my doing, or if it was the Astrolabe's default functionality." Yamato folded his arms with a mild frown. "When I accessed the Astrolabe for the first time, my data was the first thing it displayed to me. I do not know if it was because I was a human being using it, which is unnatural, or if there was another reason for it. Regardless, I was able to use my data to access yours."  
  
    He still felt lost. "How so?"  
  
    Yamato chuckled again. "I was getting there. That's the last aspect of your data: your relationships with others."  
  
    "Oh."  
  
    Hibiki's heart thrummed like a hummingbird. He stared into Yamato's pale face for what felt like an eternity. Was he being serious?!  
  
    "Is it so hard to believe?" Yamato looked amused and tilted his head. "For you, at least? I admit, had you told me that would be the case, I would not have believed you until I experienced it directly."  
  
    "I believe it," Hibiki murmured.  
  
    He had no idea what else to say. Yamato had literally seen into every aspect of his personality: his body, his heart, his mind, even his relationships. And he was still sitting here with him eating takoyaki and waiting for Filleted to come on.  
  
    He laughed wetly and rubbed at his face. "I really do. God. I can't believe you were there for four days." His hands fell into his lap, and Hibiki stared straight into Yamato's eyes. "...Thank you," he told him. His voice wavered more than he'd have liked.  
  
    But Yamato only regarded him quietly, that same enigmatic smile twisting his mouth. "I believe I told you once before that there is no need to thank me."  
  
    Hibiki snorted at him helplessly. "Come on. I still feel it, whether I tell you so or not. It's not every day you meet someone who would write themselves out of existence for you."  
  
    "Grateful or no, I'd have done it anyway," Yamato assured him. He paused, then indicated the room. "Besides, we're here because you offered to do something for me in return. I'd say my efforts have been rewarded tenfold, wouldn't you? Consider us even."  
  
    "Nah." Hibiki grinned for him. "I'd have done it anyway. I just like to hang out with you, life debt or no."  
  
    He loved it when he made Yamato look surprised, because it didn't happen often. The last time he'd given him a look like that was when Hibiki had immediately asked to go with him on his journey around the world. Yamato had called him his sworn friend.  
  
    Yamato sat back on his hands and eyed him a moment, but he recovered quickly, as he was wont to do. "Quite. I could think of no one better suited to tie my data to."  
  
    Hibiki paused. "What do you mean?"  
  
    "Didn't I mention that?"  
  
    He shook his head, and Yamato scoffed lightly.  
  
    "The reason I was able to find your connection so easily? It was my only one."


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

 

    In the middle of December, Yamato finally seemed to reach his limit. They'd been away from Japan since the tail-end of August, and Hibiki could tell it was beginning to wear on him. Plus, they were running out of things to do.  
  
    Granted, America was enormous, and they had yet to cover a fraction of it, but the novelty was wearing off. Hibiki had prodded Yamato into trying everything he could think of: they went to the cinema together for the first time (Yamato wasn't impressed), they visited an amusement park (a couple, actually), hit up several different museum and tourist attractions, and even tried their hand at another mall, which was much busier and grated on Yamato a lot more than the first one they'd explored. He did, however, like the giant pretzels Hibiki bought for him, so that was a plus.  
  
    Some of their ventures were more successful than others. Yamato had, to Hibiki's shock, actually liked the amusement parks they visited. But when Hibiki had dragged him to an arcade, they ended up playing laser tag with a group of eight year olds who learned that 'mercy' was a foreign concept to some people.  
  
    They were standing on the third floor of the sweet laser tag obstacle course when Yamato leveled his plastic gun over the edge.  
  
    "Yamato," Hibiki snapped, and he grasped at his sleeve. "You can't snipe a bunch of eight year olds!"  
  
    He had looked back at Hibiki in disbelief, as if he could not possibly imagine that Hibiki would dare take exception to his flawless tactics, then he curled his lip into a sneer. "I _absolutely_ can." And he absolutely did. By the time they ended the round, all six of the kids were crying. Hibiki felt obligated to earn back some of that wasted karma, so at the end of the night, he took all the tickets they'd won from the games that didn't involve demoralizing children and gave them to a little girl at the prize counter.  
  
    Honestly, Hibiki was pretty ready to go home himself, but at the same time, he dreaded leaving. Despite all the amazing things they'd done together, he had blown every single opportunity he'd been presented with to finally tell Yamato how he truly felt.  
  
    And oh, did he ever have opportunities. Yamato had surprised him with plane tickets to Austin, Texas, and they'd gone on an actual fucking horse carriage ride. He'd been prepared for disappointment, but no. There were more horses than he'd ever expected to see in a downtown area. Plus he got to snap a truly incredible selfie of himself with a native, in which he was beaming so hard he looked like a little boy chilling with Santa if Santa were a confused, elderly Texan wearing a cowboy hat.  
  
    The carriage ride was truly something else, though. It was so damned magical that Hibiki almost said 'fuck it' and kissed Yamato in public, but the driver sitting there put an enormous damper on that. Talk about awkward. So he blew that chance, and when he tried to make up for it on a Ferris wheel at one of the theme parks they visited, someone in the car above them barfed over the side and ruined Yamato's mood for the rest of the night.  
  
    The entire world seemed to be conspiring against him, and it was pretty soul crushing. It wasn't like kissing him at all wouldn't be a blessing, considering how fucking impossible it'd been up to that point, but Hibiki still felt like they had to do it here, before Yamato went back to work and re-assumed his position as the Chief.  
  
    He wasn't sure why he cared so much. It was like he felt certain that Yamato would forget every memory they'd made here if he didn't have that physical token to seal the deal before he was reminded of how important he was. It was stupid, because Yamato had made it crystal clear how much he believed Hibiki was of much greater importance than himself, but 'stupid' seemed par for the course for him.  
  
    Still, as much as Hibiki was resistant to leaving, when Yamato asked him if they could return home soon, he agreed. The last thing he wanted was to make Yamato feel obligated to extend their already four month long vacation. Hibiki had already completely monopolized his attention for that long and still had nothing to show for it.  
  
    "Hey, wait-"  
  
    Yamato listened patiently.  
  
    "Actually, it's almost New Year's. What if we head back to New York before we go home? I think it'd be cool to end it all where we started, plus we'd get to see the ball drop. We can go home in a brand new year. What do you think?"  
  
    He'd always been interested in that celebration. He watched it with his mom on TV a few times, and the idea of getting to actually be there and experience it in person with Yamato seemed like an extremely high note to end their vacation on. Perhaps it would ease the disappointment he felt every time he remembered that he'd wasted his chance to be with him.  
  
    Yamato agreed, and they flew to New York City a few days before New Year's Eve.  
  
    Like he'd hoped, the morning of New Year's Eve found him so fucking excited Hibiki could think of little else. "My mom is going to be _so_ jealous." He gripped at his face with his gloved hands and tossed Yamato a completely besotted grin as they walked side by side down the choked sidewalks. There were already droves of people out for the holiday, and snow swirled lazily through the dark sky.  
  
    "Why?" Yamato asked. They split apart as a line of people paraded between them, but when they rejoined again, Hibiki snaked his arm around Yamato's elbow and guided him deeper into the crowd.  
  
    "We used to watch them sometimes. On TV, I mean. I can't wait to show her all our pictures!"  
  
    Music blasted around Times Square. His heart soared to see so many people as excited to be here as he was. They spotted celebrities (more accurately, Hibiki spotted them), deftly avoided cameras seeking out the crowd, since Hibiki doubted Yamato would appreciate them, and eventually managed to get close enough to see the giant countdown clock.  
  
    And then they waited, because Hibiki had insisted on being there hours early.  
  
    Yamato didn't seem to mind, but the cold got to Hibiki before it ever hit eleven. He stood there shivering, yanking his white hoodie tighter around him. "I'm trying really hard not to bitch about it being cold, because it's snowing, so, obviously, but it's _really_ freaking hard." His teeth chattered pitifully as he glanced over to see Yamato standing with his hands pushed into the pockets of his smart grey peacoat. Ugh, it looked so good on him. And he looked like he wasn't cold at all, which was kind of insulting.  
  
    Yamato dropped his head and stared at him. Hibiki could see little snowflakes dotting Yamato's pale lashes. "I told you to wear something warmer."  
  
    "My hoodie is warm," he complained. "It's got to be at least as warm as your jacket, yours isn't that much thicker." After a beat, Hibiki gave up, and he reached out and grabbed Yamato's arms. "Be still a sec." He whipped around and pressed his back into the man as he reached up to grip his own biceps. "Holy fuck, how are you so warm all the time?!"  
  
    Yamato chuckled behind him, so close that Hibiki could feel his breath stir his hair. Though he'd been freezing only moments ago, he very nearly melted into a puddle on the sidewalk. Yamato tilted his head and spoke into his ear. "Would you like a tip?" he asked.  
  
    Hibiki hesitated a long time. He glanced downward. If he tilted his hips back just a fraction, he was 99% sure his ass would find an extremely comfortable spot tucked right up against Yamato's crotch. "...Yes I would," he said. If Yamato actually understood his innuendo, he certainly made no indication of it. He simply put his left arm around Hibiki's side and wiggled his phone in front of his face. It was open on the demon summoning app, and Hibiki could see that he had equipped Fire Amp and Anti Ice.  
  
    "Wh- It still works?!"  
  
    Yamato laughed again, and he was still close enough to Hibiki's ear that he shivered in a way that had very little to do with the weather. "It would appear so," Yamato crooned.  
  
    The sense of betrayal didn't last long, because Yamato made absolutely no move to get Hibiki out of his personal space. He just stood behind him quietly, letting Hibiki leech all that delicious warmth from him until he relaxed.  
  
    "...This is amazing, isn't it?"  
  
    Some time after eleven thirty, Hibiki tilted his head back against Yamato's shoulder and extended a hand towards the crowd. They were mesmerizing to look at. Everyone looked so fucking happy. They were all there together on the precipice of a brand new year, a fresh new start, and they were there because Hibiki and Yamato had made it so. Together with their friends, they had saved their world from the brink of destruction and made it even better.  
  
    Yamato shifted behind him. "What is? The event?"  
  
    Hibiki shook his head, then paused. "Well, not just that. It is pretty killer, though, huh? Uhm, but seriously. All this." He lifted both his arms and shrugged with a snort of amusement. "All these people are alive and well because of our efforts. It feels incredible to know that. To look out and literally see the difference we made. We took a huge gamble, and look how it paid off."  
  
    "Ah. That's very true."  
  
    He was so overwhelmed with emotion he was oblivious to the time. Only the crowd surging around them snapped him to attention, and he looked up to see the clock flashing brightly. It was less than a minute til midnight.  
  
    His heart lurched in his chest. His eyes were glued to the minute hand as it inched closer and closer, the sound of the ticks throbbing in his head in time with his heart beat. He moved to the side and clutched at Yamato's forearm tightly.  
  
    "Ten!"  
  
    People pressed all around them, but it somehow managed not to be oppressive. Bodies shielded him from the biting cold, and a chorus of voices almost drowned out the music.  
  
    "Nine!"  
  
    Hibiki smiled so hard his face almost hurt. This was it. His heart pounded all the harder, but it never felt off pace with the tick of the clock.  
  
    "Eight!"  
  
    His fingers tightened yet further around Yamato, and he turned towards him. "Come on!"  
  
    "Seven!"  
  
    Yamato cocked his head at him in confusion. Too many voices.  
  
    "Six!"  
  
    Hibiki laughed and shook his head, and he cupped his hands to his mouth and joined the crowd.  
  
    "Five!"  
  
    With each second that saw them closer to the new year, fireworks burst from the sides of the clock.  
  
    "Four!"  
  
    Confetti rained from the sky so heavily it almost obscured the snow. Hibiki turned back again to see Yamato crankily picking confetti from his hair, and he couldn't help but giggle.  
  
    "Three!"  
  
    Yet more fireworks exploded into the sky.  
  
    "Two!"  
  
    Hibiki stopped chanting and looked back up at Yamato yet again.  
  
    Each firework that lit up the sky illuminated his pale face in bright reds and yellows. He looked content as he watched them, but when he noticed Hibiki's gaze, he dropped his head to stare back at him intently.  
  
    He was so exquisitely beautiful. He was so fucking smart, and the strength of his convictions was unparalleled. And he regarded no one as highly as he regarded Hibiki.  
  
    His heart was thrumming in his ears as he and Yamato stared at each other, and the crowd ceased to exist around them. All he could see was Yamato, and the way Yamato looked at him made Hibiki feel like he was the only person in the universe.  
  
    "One!"  
  
    Hibiki's fingers curled around the lapels of Yamato's jacket, and he surged up on his feet to kiss him.  
  
    He could feel how cold his own skin was as his frigid nose brushed against Yamato's agonizingly warm cheek. All around them rallied the cries of "Happy New Year!", but Hibiki couldn't hear a damned one of them.  
  
    He dropped down to his feet and opened his eyes to see Yamato was still staring at him, and he hadn't moved an inch. "It's good luck to kiss someone on New Year's," he said stupidly. Then he scoffed at himself and offered Yamato a deeply self-deprecating smile. "...And I just wanted to. For like...a few months now. Wait, how many is a few?"  
  
    Yamato's expression barely changed, but he did smirk as he reached out to pluck a piece of confetti from Hibiki's hair. "Three to four," he answered.  
  
    "Oh. Then several is...?"  
  
    Yamato snorted at him. "Five or more."  
  
    "Several months it is."  
  
    He laughed, then, and Hibiki savored the sound of it as warmth spooled through his insides.  
  
    "That's quite a wait. Was it worth it?"  
  
    Hibiki pushed closer to him. He could feel his pulse spike again, and his hands slid from Yamato's lapels down to his sides. "Absolutely." For once, he could actually see the shift of Yamato's features as his face softened. It made him smile before he tilted his head again and kissed Yamato a second time, just because he could. "Happy New Year, Yamato," he breathed.  
  
    Yamato gave him that adorably sharp, threatening looking smile that was so natural for him and made Hibiki's stomach do somersaults. "Happy New Year, Hibiki."

    For their third kiss, Hibiki twined his arms around Yamato's neck and delighted in the feeling of snowflakes melting between their mouths. Every ruined moment, every aborted confession filtered through his head and drained away to make room for how much he fucking loved the texture of Yamato's lips.  
  
    He'd asked him if it was worth it. God, was it ever.  
  
    If Hibiki had to go through every failure a second time to get to this moment in time, well...  
  
    He was alright with that.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ends this tale of two romantically inept boys. This will be the last chapter for this particular story. Thank you to everyone who read and commented, you are all so sweet! Devil Survivor is a pretty old fandom, but it's still near and dear to my heart, and it's so amazing to know other people still love it as much as I do. I really appreciate all your kind words!
> 
> I do hope to write more for these two. Thank you all again, you're all extremely kind. It means a lot to me to know that I can light up someone's day like your comments light up mine.
> 
> ♥ Radiata
> 
>  
> 
>  **Update:** Hi, all! I decided to go ahead and publish the chapter with which I had originally intended to end Jet Set Geminis.
> 
> You can find it here: <https://archiveofourown.org/works/12307383>


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